


Better Not

by kaerii_y



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drown in the cuteness with me, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Garrison trio, I had to do it, M/M, My good boys deserve to be happy together, Post S8, Post-Canon Fix-It, This is so sappy, a little bit, hunk and pidge are good friends, i'm not even sorry, kind of, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 16:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaerii_y/pseuds/kaerii_y
Summary: Nobody said moving on from Allura was going to be easy. Nobody said Lance had to do it alone either.A mini post season 8 fix-it (kindof) fic. A glimpse inside Lance’s mind to understand how he heals. How he moves on. How he accepts love again.





	Better Not

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily inspired by the lyrics from the song “Better Not” by Louis the Child and Wafia. Basically I just heard this song in the car this morning and this mini fic spiraled out of me. All the lyrics I use in this story are taken directly from that song. I recommend you listen to the song if you’ve never heard it; it’s a good one!
> 
> This is one of the sappiest things I’ve ever written and I don’t regret it at all. I hope this helps fill any post season 8 wounds you have. I know it did for me. Happy healing and headcanoning my friends :)
> 
> (Feel free to reach out to me on other platforms as well!) Instagram: blades.of.voltron Tumblr: blades-of-voltron

“Lance.”

“Hm?”

“Stop sulking.”

“What?”

“I said stop sulking.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes, you are.”

A pout creeps onto his face. Small and defensive. “You can’t prove that.”

“Yes, I can. I’m laying right next to you. I’ve been watching you stare at your phone for the past 10 minutes making the same face you made when I dared you to eat an entire lemon, and then you actually did it. Now cut it out.”

He lets out a sigh. Long and defeated. 

The lanky boy rolls over, long limbs flopping across the smaller paladin’s face. A soft muffled shriek is heard somewhere underneath.

“Hmph! Get off of me, you giraffe.” Short arms struggle to shove the larger boy away, but Lance only applies more weight.

“Not a chance, little Pidgeon. Not until you admit that I was _not_ sulking.”

She shuffles her head out from under the toned muscle. 

“You _were_ sulking.” 

A devilish smirk takes over her lips. Lance doesn’t notice. 

“And you were sulking because your boyfriend isn’t around today.”

“My WHAT?!!” 

Pidge takes advantage of his surprise, shoving the larger boy off her and tackling him before he can recover. He struggles to get away, but the green paladin is relentless. 

“Ugh, c’mon! PIDGE! Why must you torture me?” Lance groans loudly, letting his head fall backwards accepting defeat. 

“She’s not torturing you, buddy,” Hunk calls as he flicks a small brown object at Lance’s face. He’s perched in Lance’s desk chair, elbow-deep in a bag of chocolate chips and scrolling through Spotify playlists with his free hand. Shakira’s voice blares through the nearby speaker.

He glances up at the bed and the mess of limbs (see: Lance and Pidge) sprawled on top of it. Spotify playlist momentarily forgotten, his thumb hovers frozen over the screen. 

“She’s actually trying to help you stop torturing yourself.”

Lance quirks an eyebrow, head tilting as far as Pidge’s knees will let it. “What do you mean by t- MMPH?!!”

Pidge slaps a hand over his mouth. He glares up at her, humming curses underneath her palm clearly not pleased with this violation of his rights. 

“Shush,” she commands. Her tone isn’t harsh, but there’s a sudden seriousness to it. Lance stills, hesitant and uncertain as she slowly peels her hand away. 

“You were texting Keith.”

His face twitches at the name, but quickly relaxes feigning nonchalance. 

“Yeah… so?”

“You asked him to come over.”

“Yeah.” His response is blank. Reserved. Defensive. “I asked you guys to come over too. We’re all friends. Of course I was gonna ask him too.”

Pidge’s lips twitch up at the corners. “Of course.” 

Lance doesn’t like her tone. It’s dripped with mischief like she knows something he doesn’t. Which is honestly very likely. That girl knows everything. Lance eyes her suspiciously as she continues. 

“And what was his response?”

“He’s going on a mission with the Blades today, so he can’t. They’re scouting the outer planets of a nearby galaxy that have been more or less on their own so far. There’s a whole cluster of them out there so he’ll be gone all day.” Lance turns his eyes away, avoiding her gaze in hopes that she buys his act of indifference. “But that’s his job. No biggie.”

“Yup. No biggie. Uh huh.” Her expression softens, all teasing and sarcasm gone. “Except that you’re disappointed.”

The statement takes Lance off guard. It’s not a question, or a guess. It isn’t said in a way that leaves it open for interpretation. It’s said with absolute certainty. Not only that, but it’s said with understanding. Acceptance. 

It’s a fact. 

She knows it’s true. 

So does he. 

Lance has never been a shy person, especially in front of his best friends. But suddenly he feels… uncertain. Small. Vulnerable.

He hesitates. He blinks. “What?”

“You’re disappointed, Lance. You know he’s doing his job with the Blades right now and that’s important, but that doesn’t mean you don’t wish that he weren’t. You know he _needs_ to be leading the Blades right now, but you don’t _want_ him to be. You want him to be here. You want to see him. Want to talk to him. Want to be with him. You wish he were here right now. With us. With you.”

She makes it sound so matter-of-fact. So simple. 

And it is. 

He wants Keith to be here. Of course he does. Why else would he have invited him in the first place? Keith is his friend. Obviously he wants to spend time with him. Just like he does with Hunk and Pidge. 

But if it really is the same as with Hunk and Pidge, then why does Keith feel so wholly different?

He doesn’t know how to respond. What is he even supposed to say to that? He knows what she’s implying. At least, he thinks he does. Then again, this is Pidge. She gets all philosophical sometimes and he’s never understood her in the past, so why would he now?

He hopes he’s wrong. Hopes she’s just messing around and hasn’t actually looked this far into his relationship with Keith. Hopes his feelings haven’t been as obvious as he’s afraid of. 

But another part of him hopes he’s right. He hopes she’s implying exactly what she sounds like. Because maybe, _just maybe_ , he wouldn’t mind a little relief. He’s been bottling up his confusion, afraid that trying to put it into words would only confuse him more. But somehow Pidge managed to attack the exact root of his problem head on, and she did it with just one simple sentence.

She was spot on. 

He _is_ disappointed. 

He wants Keith to be here. He _likes_ being with Keith. Being with Keith is so easy. He doesn’t have to hide who he is or try to act cool because Keith already knows everything about him. He’s seen him cry. He’s seen him when he’s pissed. He’s seen him in his nightly face masks and bathrobe and Blue Lion slippers. And Keith still sticks around. Not for some hyped up, overly-impressive version of Lance. But for the real Lance. No sugar-coating. Just Lance. 

He makes Lance feel important. Makes him feel like he’s worth something. Like he isn’t just a nobody. Like being a paladin of Voltron isn’t the only thing that makes him valuable. Like he has his own worth just for being who he is. 

He just makes Lance _happy_.

And hell if it isn’t confusing. 

Hunk makes him happy. Pidge makes him happy. All those things about Keith are true for Pidge and Hunk and all his other friends too. 

So why is Keith _different?_

He and Keith. They were … they were _rivals_. Keith was the guy who Lance always wanted to beat. The guy who was always one-upping him. Even when they were paladins of Voltron, Keith was still the better guy. He’s the greatest pilot of his generation. Probably the greatest pilot of every generation at this point. He’s the pilot of the Black Lion. The leader of Voltron. And now he’s the leader of the Blade of Marmora. The guy is impressive as hell. Always has been. 

And it used to irritate Lance to no extent. 

So... when did that change?

When did Lance stop seeing him that way? When did they switch from rivals, to teammates, to good friends?

He doesn’t know. He gets headaches just thinking about it.

All he knows is he’s glad. He’s really, _really_ happy that he has Keith. 

As a teammate. 

As a leader. 

As a friend. 

As a … no. That’s it. They’re friends. 

But is he … is he disappointed that they’re just friends? That they’re just friends and nothing more?

Heh, who’s he kidding? He already knows the answer. Apparently Pidge and Hunk do too. 

But it’s scary. It’s unfamiliar. It’s uncertain.

It’s _Keith_.

He doesn’t know how he got to this point. He probably never will. And he wishes that somehow he could go back. Stop himself from going too far. Get to the friends stage and just stay there. Don’t move any further. Don’t pass go. Don’t collect $200.

But life isn’t like that. He comes to a realization he doesn’t know how to handle and so what does he do?

He does exactly what he always has. What he’s been doing for the past 4 months since the war ended. 

He bottles it up. Pretends it doesn’t exist. Denies it until the denial itself becomes truth and the problem is no longer a burden. 

His voice comes out shakier than he hoped it would. “I- I don’t know what you mean. He’s our friend. I want him to be here just as much as I want you guys to be here. I’d be just as disappointed if it was one of you who couldn’t come today.”

“Maybe. But I get the feeling that’s because neither of us have been on Earth for the past two and a half weeks and therefore you missed us dearly. Keith on the other hand,” the corners of her mouth curl up even further, “he’s been here this whole time. Tell me, Lance. When was the last time you saw him?”

There’s a pause. Long and heavy. Because he knows the answer is exactly what Pidge wants to hear. He knows. And, of course, so does she.

He sighs. “Last night.” Why does his voice sound so small?

Pidge’s lips give in and she grins fully now. “And you miss your man already,” she coos. Before Lance can retort she claps her hands loudly. “Lance, it’s time for a little intervention.” She peels herself off the larger boy and calls over her shoulder. “Hunk! Would you do the honors, good sir?”

Hunk smiles, large and bright in typical Hunk fashion. “Way ahead of you, Pidge.”

Lance rolls over, curling up into a ball and groaning. “Noooo, guys please. You said it yourself, I haven’t seen you in almost 3 weeks. Can’t we just hang out and have a good time? Interventions are not fun and this is completely unnecessary.”

Hunk gives his best friend a less-than-sympathetic look. “Sorry, buddy, but you need this.”

“False. I don’t need to sit here and be lectured by you two about … whatever it is you want this intervention to be about. I’m doing just fine without it, thank you very much.”

Pidge rounds the corner of the bed and crouches down at the edge until she is eye level with Lance. “Don’t worry, we aren’t that boring. This isn’t the kind of intervention you’re thinking of, dummy.” She lightly knocks her fist against Lance’s head. He slaps her hand away in response. Pidge chuckling. Lance pouting.

“Yeah Lance, just trust us.” Hunk calls across the room before tapping something on his phone and putting it away.

Lance doesn’t want any part of this. He has a bad feeling about it. All of it. This _intervention_. 

Ugh. 

Interventions require talking and talking means admitting feelings and feelings lead to confusion and confusion leads to headaches and headaches lead to a very unhappy Lance and an unhappy Lance means he’ll complain and … he could go on and on. This is just not going to be good for anyone involved. 

But he _does_ trust them. More than anyone else in the universe. He takes his trust seriously. They all do. That’s why they make such a great team. They all know they can count on each other and trust each other with anything and everything. No exceptions. 

He sighs with the realization that they have already won. Reluctantly he gives a small nod as the first notes of a familiar pop song flow through the speaker, cutting off his queen Shakira. 

He bolts upright. “Hey! What did you change the song for? That was my jam!”

Hunk’s hands come down on his shoulders, firm yet gentle. “Shhh, Lance. Just listen, okay?”

He shuts his mouth and sits still on the bed, knees tucked into his chest with arms wrapped around. 

Wary. 

Guarded. 

He peers up at his friends through thick lashes. The cheerful chords of the new song’s intro contrast with Lance’s quickly dampening mood as he waits to be lectured.

But suddenly the lyrics start, and Pidge opens her mouth to speak. 

Only she isn’t speaking. 

She’s singing.

“ _I know it’s hard to admit it that you found love, it’s hard to stay in it,”_

Wait. Lance knows this song. He _loves_ this song. The cheerful beat. The cute lyrics. The catchy chorus. He’s listened to this song probably a hundred times since they’ve been back on Earth. He could probably sing it perfectly in his sleep. He knows all the words already. So, why is Pidge standing in front of him singing them to him? What kind of an intervention is this? 

Pidge takes a step closer and nods in the direction of Lance’s phone, abandoned by his pillow, its screen still displaying his most recent text messages with a certain mulleted boy. Lance turns his head, eyes glancing at the name _Samauri >;) _spelled out at the top of the screen. He lets his eyes linger over the name for a moment before turning back to Pidge. Uncertain. Questioning. 

She simply smiles, and nods in the direction of the phone once more.

“ _But he’s better than anyone I’ve seen you with before._ ”

Oh. 

Lance’s eyes widen. 

_Oh._

He feels heat begin to creep it’s way up the back of his neck. He buries his face in his knees, the only solution he can think of to hide his embarrassment.

But just as fast as his head drops, it’s being lifted again by Hunk’s gentle hands. He locks eyes with Lance as he joins Pidge in singing along.

_“So talk to me, tell me ‘bout all your insecurities,”_

Hunk’s huge, soft hands cup Lance’s face and drag down to his arms that are still suffocating his knees. Slowly they pull his arms away from his legs, opening him up as his arms flop to his sides and his knees fall away from his chest. 

Lance is cautious. He doesn’t know where they’re going with this. He’s heard all these lyrics before. Sung them himself dozens of times. But they never held any meaning to him. They were just words that tagged along with a happy tune. He knew the general meaning behind the song; it wasn’t very hard to miss. It was a precious meaning, full of love and care and genuine happiness. Sure, he could relate to it to some extent, but it was never something he thought would ever apply to him on such a profound level.

At least not until this moment. Not until his two best friends are staring him in the face with sappy smiles on their lips and singing directly to him as if the lyrics were written specifically for _him._

In a flash, Pidge snatches his phone off the bed and begins quickly searching through it. Lance opens his mouth to protest, but she simply holds up a pointer finger, a silent demand to keep quiet and wait.

“ _And I’m tryna make you see what I see,”_

Her grin widens as she flips the phone, flashing the screen in front of Lance’s face. He flinches slightly at the sudden movement, giving himself a moment for his eyes to take in the image on the screen. 

A picture of him and Keith just a few days ago on the farm cradling a newborn piglet. Soft smiles on their faces, gentle hands holding the delicate animal. Arms slung comfortably around each other, fingertips brushing underneath the piglet’s blanket.

Pidge swipes her finger across the screen. 

Another picture of him and Keith. Last Thursday when Lance helped the Blades with temporary shelter construction. Keith and Lance frozen in time in the middle of a paint duel. Both boys splattered in the other’s paint and winding up to throw their next glob. Eyes crazed with laughter, the two boys lost in their own world. A picture of pure euphoria. 

Swipe. 

Another picture from last week. Keith on the living room floor being tackled by Lance’s niece and nephew. His smile peeking out from underneath small limbs as the two children giggle on top of him. Lance standing in the corner, bent over over at the waist and eyes crinkled shut from laughter. 

Swipe. 

A group photo of the Atlas crew and Voltron paladins. Him and Keith side by side in the front row, neither one looking at the camera. Faces close together, whispering words unheard. Foreheads tilted towards each other, soft smiles ghosting across their lips. Each one distracted by the other. Picture taken without either of them knowing. Or caring for that matter.

Swipe.

A photo 3 weeks ago from Shiro’s wedding. The groomsmen huddled around a beaming Shiro sitting atop Keith’s and Lance’s shoulders. Keith’s gaze directed upwards at the newly-wed above him, laughing at the slightly startled face of his brother-figure. Lance glancing across Shiro’s dangling legs, stealing a peek at the mulleted boy. Subtle. Secret. Eyes soft with endearment. Cheeks littered with pink. Maybe from the hot weather and strain of the heavy lifting. Maybe not.

Pidge lowers the phone. Her eyes are open wide, twinkling and adorable.

_”You’re happier than I’ve ever seen you.”_

And Lance … oh shit, he’s going to cry, isn’t he? 

He blinks rapidly as he feels the telltale burning behind his eyes and thick heat creeping up his throat. He tries to fight it, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He doesn’t want to cry. Not over something like this. Something that isn’t even supposed to be _sad._

But how can he _not_ cry when his best friends are standing in front of him and looking at him like _that_. Looking at him with the softest expressions he’s ever seen like they’ve been waiting an eternity for this moment to come and it’s about damn time that it’s here. Like he deserves happiness more than anyone in the world and the thought of him finding it again is the greatest treasure they could have. Like they would do anything and everything to see him at peace again. To see him together with another person again. To see him actually _happy_ again. Truly and undoubtedly. None of that fake shit that Lance had given them in the past. Those hollow smiles and empty words pleading _‘I’m fine’_ even when he knew he wasn’t. None of that half-assed bullshit. They wouldn't have it. Not anymore.

There was always a lot going on during and immediately after the war, so everyone was constantly busy. But even though they didn’t exactly have the time to say it in so many words, Lance knew that all along they had been there for him. Watching. Caring. Giving him the space he needed, but never abandoning him. Wanting him to learn to cope on his own first. Needing him to grow in his own way and discover for himself where his next path would lead him. Waiting for the right time to step in and help. Waiting for all the signs that he’s ready for the next chapter. When he’s healed. When he’s grown. When he’s learned. When he’s found the path he’d been looking for all along, but starting the journey seems much more terrifying when it’s right there in front of his feet. When all he needs is a gentle push to get him going. 

And suddenly, Lance realises that the right time they’d been waiting for is now.

Pidge and Hunk are there by his sides, hands on each of his shoulders. Smiling and singing. 

They give him a push.

And he’s falling.

_“It’s true love, don’t fake it,”_

But no one ever said the fall would be easy. 

He’s soaring through open air, gaining speed as he plummets. Faster. Faster. Faster until the clouds that whip by him are nothing but smudges of white against blue. Until he’s so out of control he can’t see the ground. Until his body is flipping somersaults through the air, legs and arms desperately flailing to grasp onto something. _Anything._ But he’s free falling through open air with no parachute. With no direction, no sight, no control. He plummets. Terror seeps in with the realization that there’s a ground somewhere below him. A solid ground invisible in his blurred vision. A ground he knows he inevitably will reach sooner or later. A ground that taunts him, waiting to claim its victim, and Lance doesn’t even know when to brace for impact.

His heart slams in his chest. 

Panic.

Doubt.

Uncertainty.

Denial.

Pidge grabs his face in her hands, cupping his cheeks and staring directly into his eyes.

_“You better not, you better not.”_

He doesn’t know what to think. Doesn’t know what to _feel_. 

He trusts them. He really does. 

But does he want to go through this again? Does he want to put himself in that position again? Everyone knows how it ended last time. Lance isn’t sure if he’s ready. Putting his fragile heart in someone else’s hands again? 

No.

It will just get broken. He can’t have that happen. He _won’t_ let that happen. 

Isolation. 

Protection.

Denial.

_“It’s right here, don’t waste it._

_You better not, you better not.”_

Hunk’s stare is relentless.

Pleading.

Longing.

Lance wants to listen to them. He does. Because objectively he knows they’re right. 

But he’s just… afraid. 

They’re telling him he’s ready, but is he? Is now the right time? How would anyone know that for sure? What if it doesn’t work out? What if he rushes in too fast? What if he loses Keith as a result? What if-

_“Don’t say you can’t figure it out, figure it out._

_I know you can figure it out, figure it out.”_

Lance lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Slow and shaky. 

Maybe Lance is uncertain, but they aren’t.

They know him. They know he’s ready. They know this is what he’s been longing for even if his own mind is too stubborn to let himself have it. They want him to have it. And they want to help him get it. They’ll be his rock for as long as he needs them to be. And he’s never been more grateful for two people in his entire life. He’s lucky to have the most perfect friends in the world. Sure, they can be little shits sometimes. They poke fun and push him around, but he knows deep down they want what’s best for him. They care about him and have bigger hearts than anyone in the entire universe and they’ll always be there for him and … yeah he’s totally crying now.

Pidge and Hunk are standing now, each grabbing one of Lance’s hands. 

Should he trust them with this?

_“It’s true love, don’t waste it.”_

Denial.

_“You better not,”_

Consideration.

_“You better not.”_

Acceptance.

Hands tighten their grip around his. Muscles pull backwards. His body lurches forward. 

In one swift motion he’s flung from the bed and free falling all over again. 

But he’s starting to think that might not be such a bad thing after all.

When his feet touch the ground he doesn’t falter. His surprise melts into a smile. His smile becomes laughter. He feels lighter and lighter with each passing second. 

He’s still falling. 

But he’s not afraid of the fall anymore. He’s not afraid of the ground that grows tauntingly closer.

Because he knows at the bottom someone will be there to catch him.

And he knows exactly who he wants that someone to be.

He hardly has time to yelp before Pidge grabs both his arms and is dragging him with all her might out the door and down the stairs. Lance is a stumbling, blushing mess, but he doesn’t care anymore. He lets short legs lead his tall ones out the front door and into the summer sunlight. Hunk chases after them, laughing and hoisting the speaker up above his head, cheerful sounds still blaring out of it. 

The sun feels warm on his skin. Bright and welcoming. He slows his steps, pausing for a moment to breathe in the fresh air and bask in the sunlight. 

Pidge has a different idea. 

Hooking her arm around Lance’s with Hunk on his other side she pulls him across the acres of farmland. “Come on, stringbean. Let’s go!”

“Hey! Who you calling stringbean?” 

She tugs him harder, legs picking up speed. 

“And where are you guys taking me? Hunk? Pidge?!”

Pidge spins around to face him, a knowing grin on her lips. She jogs backwards, grabbing Lance’s hands and continuing to pull him forward. 

_“Don’t overthink it, let it go and try to trust the feeling,”_

The grassy pastures beneath their feet melt into splotches of bright color as they enter the garden. 

She pauses, bending over to pull one of Altea’s pink juniberry flowers out of the ground. Lance falters at the sight. 

Allura.

His first love.

He misses her. They all do. She was such an inspiration. 

A diplomat.

A teammate.

A friend.

A lover.

She taught him so much. She was so full of life and beauty. 

He misses her. He does. 

But for some reason… his heart doesn’t ache for her the way it used to. 

He’s accepted that she’s no longer with them. Her sacrifice was one that will never be forgotten, and he knows that she’s still a part of them. All of them. They were connected through Voltron. They were connected through friendship. Her legacy lives on through each of them. He knows her spirit is with them every second.

Her spirit is with them even now. 

He turns his gaze away, guilty.

Pidge catches his chin in her hand, turning his head back to look at her. She rises up on her toes, reaching her hand up and tucking the flower behind his ear. 

Warmth spreads throughout him. 

Is it wrong to move on? To take the love he learned from Allura and love another? 

No. 

She would want this for him, just as much as Pidge and Hunk do. 

They had a good run together, him and Allura. He doesn’t regret it and won’t ever forget it, but he can’t dwell on it forever. He’ll tear himself apart that way. He knows it. 

And now, standing in the sunlight surrounded by his two best friends and a garden full of bright juniberry flowers, he thinks that maybe his heart is ready. Maybe this time he’ll let himself move on. 

He brushes his fingers across the soft pink petals in his hair. 

He knows she’ll be with him, supporting him, forever and always. 

He drops his hand and lets the warmth wash over him. He’s ready to let go. Ready to move on.

He just doesn’t know if he can do it alone. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to. 

He smiles softly down at Pidge, who reciprocates the gesture. Her eyes shine up at him. 

What is that expression she’s wearing? 

Sadness?

Fondness? 

Empathy?

No. 

It’s pride. 

Not her own. But for him.

_“You know it in your gut you’re healing from every time that you’ve been hurt before.”_

He does. He knows it now. 

He didn’t before, and it certainly took time. 

But now he thinks he shouldn’t have to hurt anymore. He shouldn’t have to hold onto the pain of the past. 

There are things he can surround himself with to fill the holes left in his chest from a past of war and death and heartbreak. There are things that bring him happiness. Things that he didn’t let himself enjoy and love fully until now. 

Things in the shape of a short figure with cropped brown hair and large circular glasses. 

Things in the shape of a tall figure with broad shoulders and a bright smile. 

Things in the shape of soft pink petals perched atop lively green stems.

Things in the shape of human figures, all shapes and sizes pulled together in one large and familiar group hug. 

Things in the shape of long, dark hair pulled back into an elastic. Deep purple irises, fierce but gentle. A thin scar across a cheek. Soft, pale skin carrying a ghostly touch. Worn, calloused hands. Toned muscle underneath a deep shoulder scar. Fingerless gloves. A confident aura. A teasing smile.

Things in the shape of Pidge, Hunk, Allura, his family, his team, his friends…

Things in the shape of Keith. 

It’s relieving. 

He wants to let himself be happy. He _deserves_ to be happy. And the best part is he knows exactly what makes him happy. Knows exactly _who_ makes him happy.

It’s relieving.

It’s terrifying.

It’s exhilarating.

He’s running again, Pidge a few steps ahead pulling him along as their shoes hit pavement. Hunk keeps pace right beside her. 

Music vibrating through his bones. Blood coursing. Legs pumping. He picks up speed, quickly falling in line with Hunk and Pidge. 

He’s smiling. He’s laughing. He’s _singing._

The words come naturally to him. He’s sung this chorus a hundred times over. 

But this time it’s different. This time it’s about him. This time he _gets it._

It’s a lesson. 

It’s a ledge. 

It’s a leap of faith. 

And he’s already jumped. Free falling with open arms and an open heart. He isn’t afraid of the fall. He embraces it. 

Because now he knows exactly who stands ready to catch him. 

Because he knows Keith won’t drop him. 

His legs pound the pavement faster and faster. No destination in mind. Wind whipping through his hair. Energy coursing through his veins. Droplets of sweat trickling down his neck. 

The movements of his feet against asphalt. The motion of his chest as he breathes. 

The balance and imbalance. The rise and fall.

It grounds him. He feels solid. Forceful. Steady and relentless. A moving force as massive as the Earth itself. Unstoppable.

It lifts him up. He feels fluid. Weightless. Breezy and carefree. A gust of wind flowing through the very atmosphere around him. Soaring.

It steadies him like a rock. 

It sweeps him off his feet.

He’s riding the edge, living on a feeling. It breathes life into him. And he can’t remember what life felt like without it.

The exhilaration.

The terror.

The release.

It’s only when his breaths become quicker and his legs become heavier that he slows his pace. Pidge and Hunk are trying their best to catch up, Pidge with her deceitful little legs and Hunk burdened with a giant speaker hoisted atop his shoulder, music now faded to a stop. Lance’s smile cracks wider as he watches his two best best friends struggle behind his shoulder. 

He slows his jog to a walk and catches his breath though his heart is still pounding. He glances down the road, finally taking a moment to soak up his surroundings. Familiar dark gray and vibrant purple structures begin to appear across the horizon. He recognizes the building. He’s been there countless times. It’s one of the Blade’s communication bases. They had set it up here on Earth not too long after the war ended and it quickly became a central hub for all Blade of Marmora intel. Naturally, Keith spends a lot of time here when he isn’t leading the Blades on missions to other planets. 

Like he is today. 

And there’s that feeling again.

Disappointment.

God, he’s so pathetic. It hasn’t even been a full day since he last saw Keith yet here Lance is missing him already. What is wrong with him? When did he get this way? And how had he not realised this and done something about it sooner?

He drags his hands down his face. 

His heart’s a mess. 

His life’s a mess.

 _He’s_ a mess.

A mess in the form of a grown man who can’t even get a grip on his own goddamn feelings. 

He shakes his head, groaning softly and digging his nails into his scalp.

A heavy hand comes down on his shoulder. He drops his hands and turns to see Hunk’s smiling face. 

Lance quirks a smile and jabs a teasing finger into Hunk’s side. “So you finally caught up, huh? I thought you guys were goners.”

Pidge flops her head against his back, heaving quick, hot breaths across his shirt. “Not another word, McClain. Not another word.”

He snickers softly and turns around to face them. He crosses his arms over his chest, a devilish smirk on his lips. 

“I mean, it sure took you guys long enough. Weren’t _you_ the ones who were supposed to be leading _me?_ Not the other way around.”

“I said,” Pidge slowly raises her head, eyes sharp as daggers, “Not. Another. Word.”

She pounces, catching Lance completely off guard and sending them both toppling to the ground. He struggles underneath her, slapping at her hands and flailing his legs in a failed attempt to knock her off of him. “Ah!! Hunk help! Hel- ack! Pidge!! Ow!” 

Hunk stares down at them like a disappointed parent watching his toddlers wrestle over the TV remote. He shakes his head. 

“Guys, c’mon! Enough messing around.” He taps his foot, waiting a few moments before whipping his head around in every which direction. “Guys. Are you listening?!” He hunches over them, fear creeping into to his face and shoulders tensing in typical Hunk fashion. “Seriously guys you’re in the middle of the road! What if a car comes? You’ll turn into pancakes! And I mean, pancakes are delicious and all, but I don’t want my best friends to become them!”

“Relax Hunk,” Pidge grips Lance’s wrists, crossing them over his body and forcing them downward, “We’ll get out of the road once Lance here learns his lesson.”

Lance squirms once more underneath her weight, but it’s no use. His body goes limp as he glowers up at her. “Aww, come on! I’ve learned my lesson I swear! Now get off me!” He gives another failed attempt at shoving her off of him before flopping back again in defeat. “What happened to the soft, sappy Pidge that was just singing to me a minute ago?”

“Soft, sappy Pidge is a rare and unusual being who blesses lesser beings such as yourself with her presence only on very special occasions. She does not stick around for very long. You should be grateful you were even graced with her presence at all.” 

She flicks the lanky boy’s forhead who pouts in response. He grumbles something incoherent as Pidge swings her legs off him and stands beside his feet. 

He makes no effort to get up from his sprawled position on the ground. He simply covers his face with his hands and mumbles a soft, “ _finally_ , thank you,” though the words are hard to hear being blocked by his palms.

Pidge smirks down at him. “Sorry, what was that you said?”

Lance removes his hands from his face letting his arms flop to his side’s against the pavement. 

“I’m _not_ saying that again.”

Pidge’s smirk widens as she crosses her arms smugly over her chest. “Are you sure? Because I think you’ll definitely want to thank me later for forcing your sulking ass over here.”

Lance quirks a questioning eyebrow up at her.

“Here? As in the Blade of Marmora’s communication facility on Earth? Why would I thank you for that?” He flops his head back onto the pavement, staring at the few white clouds that pass by overhead. 

Pidge nudges his foot with her toe. He flicks his eyes back to her’s as she points to something behind him. 

“Because you get to see him.”

Lance can’t see where she’s pointing from his spot on the ground. He’s too lazy in the moment to get up and look. 

“Who’s _‘him’?”_

A brief pause. 

A knowing smile.

“Keith.”

“WHAT?!!”

Lance bolts upright and whips his head around towards the gray and purple building. There’s a swarm of people wearing the standard Blade of Marmora uniforms carrying various crates and boxes from the dozens of ships he had somehow overlooked. They appear to be unloading previously packed cargo and storing it back in the facility.

He quickly spins back around, blinking dumbfoundedly up at his two friends standing over him.

“Bu- but Keith said- he said he wasn’t gonna be here today. The Blades are on a mission to the outer planets today.” His voice becomes suddenly small. His eyes drop as he pulls his knees into his chest and subconsciously wraps his arms around them. “That’s why he couldn’t hang out today.”

A loud, exaggerated gasp escapes Pidge’s mouth. She whips her head to the side, staring at Hunk with mock surprise. 

“ _Oh no_ , Hunk! Did we forget to tell him?”

His eyes widen at her as his large hands press against the sides of his head. 

“Oh my goodness, Pidge, yes! How could we forget to tell our lovesick best friend such a crucial piece of information?!”

Lance perks his head up. 

“Wha- what?! What crucial information?! Tell me!”

Hunk drops his hands, mock surprise melting off his face as a smirk takes its place. 

“Oh, Loverboy. Keith sent an update to the Garrison about 20 minutes ago,” he says feigning nonchalance. “All the officials, including Pidge’s dad, are constantly kept up to date with information from the different troops on post-war and intergalactic efforts.”

Pidge takes over with a devilish grin on her face. “They were informed that the ‘small cluster of outer planets’ actually turned out to be one super-massive planet with an inconsistent, segmented atmosphere. The dramatically different properties of each segment of the planet were what gave off the impression that there were several smaller planets clumped together. The planet itself is pretty much uninhabitable, so naturally there was nobody living there and thus, nobody in need of post-war relief from the Blades. So they turned their ships around and are currently restocking their unused supplies to distribute on their next mission.” She adjusts her glasses and glances back at Hunk who seamlessly picks up where she left off.

“Which means that the Blades are done for today. Hence why they’re all right there behind you unpacking their ships.” His eyes shift above Lance’s head briefly before flickering back down. A smile spreads its way across his lips. “And that’s why you’ll be thanking us later for bringing you here.” He nods at the building behind Lance, a knowing look on his face. “For bringing you here to see _him._ ”

As if on cue, a voice rings out over the air.

“Hey, you three down there. Stop trespassing on my property.”

Lance freezes. 

That voice.

That voice is all too familiar. 

He’s heard it a million times. Shouting out orders. Mumbling complaints. Barking in a fit of rage. Declaring words of encouragement. Whispering compliments. Humming in satisfaction. Breathing out laughter.

It’s the same voice that belongs unmistakably to Keith.

Lance doesn’t have to turn around to know that he’s right. And it’s a good thing too, because he suddenly forgets how to move. 

Keith is there. 

He’s actually there.

 _Right_ there behind him. 

Looking at him.

Talking to him.

 _Oh God,_ he can’t do this.

He glances up at his friends for help, but they aren’t looking at him. Their chins are angled upwards and they’re smiling at something off in the distance.

Something in the shape of Keith, who Lance guesses is standing somewhere on the second floor balcony of the building behind him.

He slowly turns his torso around and lifts his head, finding out that he is, in fact, completely correct.

Keith has his arms crossed over his chest and is staring down at them, a menacing look on his face as he continues to taunt them.

“If you freeloaders don’t leave I’ll send my watchdog out to get rid of you. I warn you, he’s got a pretty nasty bite. You don’t want to meet him.”

Pidge cups her hands around her mouth yells back in retort.

“That’s a weak threat, Kogane. Kosmo loves me and you know it.” She lowers her arms, crossing them over her chest as she shakes her head. “I’m disappointed in you, Keith. I expected a much better threat from you. I raised you better than this.”

Keith laughs at that, composure crumbling and tough-guy act abandoned. He leans casually over the balcony railing as a mop of blue and white fur pops up next to him. He looks over at the wolf whose tongue is dangling and giant tail is wagging. Keith smiles and ruffles Kosmo’s ears, and in a flash they disappear.

Lance pushes himself to his feet and glances around the base, eager to find where they’ve gone. In an instant he spots them reappearing at the main entrance of the building just a few hundred feet away. Keith says a few quick words to some Blades passing by before he begins to walk straight towards the three ‘trespassers’.

Keith approaches.

Lance panics.

But thankfully Hunk is there. And so is Pidge. 

They stand by his sides, and he basks in the comfort of their presence. 

He’s not alone. 

He never has been. 

And he never will be.

Pidge peers up at him through her glasses, and for just another moment, soft, sappy Pidge returns. To comfort her best friend. To be his support when he needs her the most. To give him the encouragement he struggles to give himself. 

She tugs lightly on his sleeve, so that she knows he’ll listen despite the fact that his eyes remain fixed on the boy walking towards them. 

“Hey, Lance. Don’t be afraid, okay? This is Keith. I know it seems scary. You’re nervous. And that’s okay. This is new territory for you two. You’ve been tiptoeing around this path for quite some time now. But … I want you to know that you have nothing to worry about. He likes you, Lance. Everything about you. Exactly the way you are. You, and _only_ you. We both know it’s the truth, even though you don’t always allow yourself to see it. Just trust yourself, okay? And if you can’t do that, then at least trust me. Trust Hunk. Trust Keith.”

A warm hand comes down softly on Lance’s shoulder as Hunk’s voice pours into his other ear. 

“You don’t have to run from this anymore, buddy. We want you to be happy. You _deserve_ to be happy. And it’s no secret that you’re happiest with him. So let yourself be happy, alright? It’s okay to let yourself have that. I’ve seen you hurt. I’ve seen you heartbroken. But I’ve also seen you heal. I’ve seen you persevere. You have the biggest heart out of anyone I know. You have so much love to give, and you don’t have to be afraid of being given some in return. You don’t have to be afraid of your feelings, Lance. You can do this.”

The words wash over him and come crashing down like a tidal wave, coursing through his body and filling up every crevice until he’s drowning and gasping for air. 

He never takes his eyes off Keith. He can’t. Afraid that if he does, whatever little confidence he has will evaporate and the moment will be gone. Forever out of reach. A missed opportunity too perfect, but too late.

Keith approaches slowly. His eyes are fixed on Lance, shining and determined. A soft smile is painted across his lips, never faltering; it’s a strange thing to find on a warrior of Keith’s nature, but it’s something Lance has certainly gotten used to and adores endlessly.

Keith approaches with a walk of determined grace. He’s elegant. Confident. Radiant. He looks completely in his element. Comfortable, at ease, and beautiful as ever. He looks happy. Happy to be there in that moment. With them. With him.

Keith approaches and Lance’s heart is pounding. His stomach is fluttering. His face is flushing. His mind is reeling a thousand miles a minute and he tries to focus on something. _Anything._ Because suddenly it appears he can’t even remember his own goddamn _name._ But nothing comes. His thoughts go blank. There’s only one thing his mind can grasp and it’s walking just a stone’s throw in front of him.

Keith approaches.

Lance crumbles. 

A fumbling mess, his hands are shaking and he’s restless. Jittery. 

He feels vulnerable under Keith’s gaze, but there’s no other place he’d rather be.

Heat pools in his stomach and begins creeping up the back of his neck.

Has Keith always made him feel this way?

Yes.

There’s not a moment of hesitation. Not a single doubt in his mind. 

He knows the answer is yes. 

He knows what it means.

He _knows_ exactly how he feels. How he feels about the man walking towards him. How he feels about _Keith._

And this time, _finally,_ he’s not going to deny it.

Hunk squeezes his shoulder and looks down at him smiling.

“You’re ready.”

Pidge smiles up at him and shoves his arm. A light, friendly shove, but strong enough to send him stumbling a few steps forward.

A few steps toward Keith.

“Go get him, tiger.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it! I'm considering continuing this and adding some more parts, maybe where we actually get to have Lance and Keith interacting lol. I was initially planning on writing something primarily between them two, but I got carried away with the idea of Hunk and Pidge being Lance's support because I'm weak for the Garrison Trio cuties. So yeah, maybe I'll do another part or two, we'll see. For now, I hope you enjoy this! I sure had a lot of fun writing it :) 
> 
> If you've read my other work Behind Thin Walls and are curious where the next chapter is, don't worry! It's coming soon, I promise! I haven't abandoned that story and will be updating asap! And for those who aren't familiar with it, Behind Thin Walls is my multichapter Klance College AU fic. You can find it on my page if you're interested in checking it out!


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